


Archaic Watchfulness

by Luigi_Luigi



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: ALSO THIS IS TECHNICALLY AN UNFINISHED/ABANDONED STORYLINE, David is doin max a concern, Other, Repressed memory, but theres not really cliffhanger? just if ya happened to want more there is none, dadvid, headcannon I'm real into is that David has insomnia and this kind goes into it, insomniac!David, there's only mentions of therapists bc idk how those sessions actually go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 11:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17507354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luigi_Luigi/pseuds/Luigi_Luigi
Summary: David keeps doing dishes at 3AM. Max notices one night.





	Archaic Watchfulness

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the title, Benny.

The first time Max had noticed David's problem was when he'd gotten out of bed in the middle of the night to get water.   
  
He'd crept down the hallway as quietly as possible in order to avoid waking the older man. His efforts were deemed pointless when he realised that the man was not sleeping at all. David was in fact in the kitchen, cleaning. Max stared at him, David didn't seem to notice him yet, rather confused as to why the idiot was doing dishes at 3AM when he had to go to work in nearly 4 hours. 

  
Max wondered if maybe he was sleepwalking. When he took a step forward though, the floor creaked and David jolted in surprise. The redhead whirled around with a hand to his chest. When he saw it was only Max he gave a huff of relief.    
  
"Oh, Max! You scared me." 

  
"What the hell are you doing?"   
  


David glanced behind him at the sink full of soapy water.    
  


"Dishes." He said simply.    
  


"I can see that. Why are you doing them at 3AM?"   
  


"What are you doing out of bed at 3AM?" David countered.   
  


"Getting water. Which is nowhere near as weird as what you're doing." Max said.   
  
He continued into the kitchen and opened a cupboard. David frowned at the younger boy.    
  
"All the cups are dirty. Here." David plucked a clean mug from where it was still drying and handed it to Max.    
  
The boy grabbed the slippery handle and pressed it to the water dispenser in the fridge. The low hum and trickle of water filled the silence in the kitchen. David turned back to the sink. Max watched him slowly wipe a yellow sponge across a pot.    
  
"So why are you awake at 3AM?" Max asked once more, pulling his cup away from the water dispenser.    
"Dishes." David said simply.    
  
Max stared at him a moment longer, but when the man didn't look back at him or clarify he decided he valued sleep more than an actual answer.    
  
The second time he witnessed David's odd behaviour it had been more of a fifth or sixth time that he'd been made aware of it.   
  
Max wasn't one to go to bed early. It was usually around 11:00PM before he actually dozed off, despite his bedtime of 9:00PM. He'd say he might have a slight case of insomnia, but not as bad as David seemed to be trying to hide. The camp man said he went to bed about an hour after Max did, but after his 3AM dishes incident that was obviously a lie. He certainly got a lot more quieter as he moved around the house, but when Max actively listened for the man he could still hear him. Max hadn't actually heard David go to bed when he ran into him at 3AM that first night and it made him wonder exactly how much longer he stayed awake- if he even went to bed at all.   
  
Max was perfectly capable of staying up till 3AM if he wanted to. So for the next few days he went to his room at 9:00PM and stayed awake until 1:00AM, listening for David. It was mostly quiet, Max getting easily tired in his boredom, but he'd hear an occasional thunk from whatever the older man was doing or when he would go down the hallway. Max eventually noted that he seemed to have a routine down.    
  
When Max left David to himself, he usually tended to be in the living room. While the younger boy wasn't exactly sure what David was doing, though he assumed cleaning, he could hear varied noises that gave a general idea. The man would go around the living room, probably finishing picking up, then he would move down the hallway to his room. Max wondered if part of the reason he hadn't noticed David's patterns before was because he stayed in his room for nearly an hour, which coincidentally was about the time it took for the boy to fall asleep. David would then move to the bathroom and since it was closer to Max's room, he could hear faint scrubbing more often than not. At that point Max let himself go to sleep, knowing that David was likely to go to the kitchen last and do dishes.     
  
Then the weekend rolled around and Max decided to see how long David actually stayed awake on an almost daily basis. The camp man's pattern continued as usual, also proving Max's theory right as he finished up in the kitchen. Max strained to hear him, exhaustion settling over the boy, but it was suddenly quiet. David hadn't gone to bed. Max would have heard him come down the hall. Slowly, Max opened his door and peered into the dark. David almost always kept the lights off, somehow being able to find his way perfectly through the dark. Making his way quietly down the hallway, Max found the redhead in the living room, his tuft of hair peeking over the back of the couch. Max stood silently. He considered the probability that today could be one of the nights David actually fell asleep. He disregarded it and walked around the couch.    
  
David wasn't asleep. He was slouched down and looking drowsily at his phone. He jumped when Max seemed to suddenly appear in front of him.    
  
"Max." David sighed. "I see your awake again."   
"I see your awake again, too."   
  
David eyed him.    
  
"I suppose it's the weekend, so you won't be sleep deprived if I let you stay up." David gave up before Max even said anything more. Max climbed onto the couch next to him.    
  
"What are you doing?" Max asked him. David shrugged.

  
"Just on my phone. I didn't think there would be much on TV this late. Or early?" 

  
"So not washing dishes?" 

  
David frowned. "No."   
  


"But you were earlier."    
  
David fully turned to the younger boy. "Maybe I was."    
  


"I don't know if that is weird or boring for you to do this late."   
  


"I don't think it's as weird as your making it seem, Max." David defended.    
  
"It's weird because who the fuck does dishes at 3AM? When I stay up that late it's because I'm playing video games or something."   
  


"Were you playing video games?"   
  


"No." Max said honestly.    
  
David didn't seem to believe him.   
  


"Well for me it's just convenient, I guess. I'm usually busy during the day. Keeping up with all the little stuff at night makes it seem less overbearing."   
  


"I get staying up a little past your bedtime to get stuff done, but it's 3AM, David. Past it now, actually." Max deadpanned.    
  


"I'm just making use of my time. I can't sleep and I have to do those things at some point anyways. Besides, it's more likely to wear me out." David explained.    
  


"Doesn't seem like it's been doing a very good job at that. Is this how late you stay up every night?"    
  


"No."   
  


"Liar."   
  


"And how would you know that? Unless you ignored me about going to bed?"   
  


"I ignore you all the time, David. And I know for a fact that you get less than 4 hours sleep at most. 2 hours if this is the norm for you."    
  
David tensed up at Max's obviously spot on accusation. For a moment, he wondered if the older man was going to do his version of yelling at him. But then David sighed, suddenly looking as tired as he probably felt. He glanced up at the ceiling.    
  
"So I don't sleep much. I have insomnia." David confirmed, giving in to Max's prying. "Are you going to blackmail me with this somehow?"    
  


"No. Considering how sleep deprived you have apparently always been, it probably wouldn't do much." Max frowned. "Honestly, I had no idea until I accidentally found you doing dishes that one night. You never even look tired during the day."   
  
David shrugged. "I'm used to it. Guess I adapted to running on less sleep."   
  


"Well it explains why your such a fucking airhead all the time. You probably killed half your brain cells by now."    
  


"Hey, rude." David feigned a hurt look. Then he muttered, "Your probably right though, if I'm going to be honest."    
  
Max smirked. Then he frowned. "When was the last time you slept?"    
  


David winced at the question.    
  


"Um... I don't... remember?"   
  


"Seriously? I've let you drive in this state. God knows why we haven't died yet." Max leaned away in mock horror.    
  


"Okay, I know I haven't for the last couple days, at least. That's normal though, I can function fine. I swear." David rubbed at his neck. "I just don't really keep track anymore so the few hours I do sleep ever kinda blur together."   
"Jesus, how long have you had severe insomnia?" Max exclaimed.   
  
David blinked at him.    
  


"Um."

 

"Oh my God, David."   
  


"I remember how long I've had insomnia, Max. Sort of." David said quietly. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.   
  
In his moment of silence, Max noted how almost backwards their situation was. Max was practically scolding David like a kid who wouldn't go to bed or something. Funnily enough, that was how a lot of their interactions went, though.    
  
"Several years."    
  
Max turned his attention back to David.   
  
"Dude, what the fuck?"    
  
David sighed. He was starting to make it more and more obvious how uncomfortable he was talking about this. Max didn't relent.   
  
"How the hell do you just deal with severe insomnia for several fucking years?"    
  


"Language, Max." David said tiredly.   
  


"Fuck language. Don't change the subject. Have you done anything to fix that shit? I mean if it's this bad for a short time, fine. But years?"    
  


"I have tried things, Max. They don't work."   
  
"What have you tried? Sleeping pills? Sleepy tea? That's gonna fucking work, moron." Max snapped. "Keyword here: severe. Actually-"   
  


Max leaned over and snatched David's phone from his hand. David gave him a look that was something akin to a glare.    
  


"Give that back."   
  


"You have chronic insomnia." Max stated, reading something he'd searched.    
  


"You're not a medical professional. You're a ten year old who stole my phone and spelled insomnia wrong."   
  


"Wha- I did not!"    
  
David grabbed the phone back.   
  


"I'm aware I have a bit of a problem-"   
  


"A bit."   
  


"Fine. I have a serious problem. However, I don't know how to fix it. Since I haven't had much issues so far though, besides being restless and bored for a whole night, I'm not really worried about it."   
  
"You have an issue now." Max said darkly. "Me."   
  


David stared at him.    
  


"That's not-"   
  


"You should go to a medical professional, if you won't listen to me." Max said.   
  


"Technically, that would be listening to you. Look, Max. I'm not trying to shut you down. It's just," David paused. "I've already gone through this a hundred times. I've kind of just accepted it. It's not like anyone notices, either. You didn't even know until recently."    
  
"Which is why we should fix it. There's something wrong with you. And I'm not talking about your weird happiness obsession. That's another problem." Max said.   
  
David drew a long breath.    
  
"Technically I have seen a medical professional. When I was younger."   
  


"Did you talk about your insomnia?"    
  


"...Maybe?" David said hesitantly.   
"God, David can't you remember anything?"

 

"In my defense, I was really young."   
  


"How young?"   
  


David studied Max for a moment.   
  


"Not much older than you I'd say."  
  
If Max had been drinking something he would have choked on it.   
"Okay, When you said several years, I was thinking you had insomnia in your late teens or something! What the actual fuck, David!"   
"Well that's about as far back as I can remember it actually being a thing. It became more like it is now when I was in my teens, if that's any consolation." David put his chin in his hand in thought.  
  


"Maybe you don't need help. Maybe you're just fucked up and were born that way." Max muttered. He suddenly felt a lot better about his occasional restless nights.    
  
"Well, maybe you're right, Max. I guess it really hasn't occurred to me to go to a doctor or something." He gave the younger boy a smile. "Outsiders opinions almost always put things in perspective."   
  
Max made a face.   
  
"Eugh, you're doing your weird optimism thing, aren't you?" Max groaned. He slipped off the couch. "Look, are you going to try and fix this in an actually effective way or are you just saying that to get me to stop talking about it?" Max asked.   
  


"If I really wanted you to stop talking about I would just say so, Max. I think you have a point though. So if it really concerns you, yes I'll get a professional opinion about my little habit." David promised.   
"What concerns me is that you keep using words like 'little' to describe the significance of your fucking 'habit'." Max grimaced. He started towards the hallway. "Anyways, I'm tired and since I can actually sleep I'm going to bed again. Goodnight."   
"It's morning, Max."   
  
The slam of a door was all David got in response.    
  
\---   
  
David eventually scheduled an appointment to see about his insomnia. It was concluded that he should see a therapist.    
  
"I don't want to." David said.    
  
He was currently at home, cutting vegetables in the kitchen. Max was sitting at the counter with him pretending to do homework.    
  
"That's why you're not going?" Max asked incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me?"   
  
"It's a valid reason, Max."   
  


"Yeah, sure. For me when I have to do homework. God, I swear you act more childish than me sometimes!"    
  


"And you can act too mature for your age." David raised a brow. "Your still 10 though and I'm 

still an adult who can make their own choices."   
  


"And your choice is to ignore your prescribed medication."    
  


"I didn't get any medication." David said confusedly.    
  


"The therapist, David. The therapist is your prescribed medication, idiot." Max dragged a hand down his face in exasperation. "You didn't get a little pill bottle because obviously that didn't work for you and probably because there's something else that needs to be fixed."   
  
Max paused.   
  
"You didn't murder anyone, did you? Psychological damage is why people go to people like therapists. Well, that and for couples therapy."   
  


"No, Max. I didn't murder anyone." David said. The boy casually accused him of such almost every other week. "And that's why I don't need to go to a therapist."   
  
"So you don't need to or you don't want to?" Max said. He reached out and nicked a piece of tomato from David's cutting board.    
  
"Hey, watch your fingers. And both." David said.    
  


"Why don't you want to see a therapist?" Max popped the tomato piece in his mouth.    
  
David paused in his chopping. He tapped the knife against the cutting board.     
  
"I don't like therapists." He said simply and continued chopping.   
  
Max squinted at him.    
  
"That sounds weird coming from you. What's wrong with therapists? Y'know besides the whole 'and how does that make you feel' shit they do."    
  


"You haven't actually been to a therapist. I have." David said.    
  


"What? When?"   
  


"When I was younger."    
  


"Was that the medical professional you saw? Why'd you see them for?"   
  
David frowned.    
  
"I don't really remember, actually. I do recall it being a negative experience though."   
  
Max grabbed another piece of vegetable.   
  
"Quit that." David scolded him.    
  
"Go see a fucking therapist." Max replied.    
  
\---   
  
Max slowly talked David into it. The boy voiced annoyance at the older man's hesitation, but really he was concerned. He'd been worried since he realised the extent of David's insomnia. Now that he knew about it he noticed a lot of the side effects that were present in the man. David was good at pretending, but Max was starting to tell which nights had been easier or worse for him in terms of sleep.    
  
"It's really unlikely your gonna have a bad time the first time you talk to her." Max said. "If she is, I'll kick her. Or blackmail her. Or both."   
  
They were walking down a hallway, currently looking for said therapist's office.    
  
"Right, thank you. I'd prefer if you didn't though, even if I don't like how this goes." David said, glancing at the office numbers framed on the walls before stopping in front of one of the doors.   
  
"Don't be so freaked out about it. You can't even remember why you don't like therapists." Max said.   
  
"It just gives me a bad feeling. Truthfully, the main reason I'm even here is because you’re with me." David admitted.   
  


"I can be supportive when I want to. Now get your fucking ass in there."   
  
David stepped inside the office. Max hung by the doorway. He watched as his guardian greeted the woman who was supposed to talk to him today. Max couldn't remember her name and didn't really care to. David glanced back at him, introducing him. Max gave a halfhearted wave to the woman. Then when David turned around, Max pointed to his eyes and then at the woman. He glared at her menacingly, until she took David back into the privacy of the actual therapy room. Max stayed where he was. There were a few seats along the wall and he scrutinised them before picking one that was by the door. He pulled out David's phone from his pocket and began playing a game he had downloaded earlier.   
  
The session lasted about an hour. Max looked up, eyes glazed from staring at his game. David walked out of the room, the ends of conversation floating out. David passed by Max and nodded at the door to signal they were leaving now. Max slid out it the chair, putting the phone back in his pocket, and followed.    
  
"So," Max inquired. "How'd it go?"   
  


"Alright. She was nice."   
  


"Uh huh. And how much is confidential?" Max asked bluntly.    
  
David gave a huff of laughter. He suddenly scooped Max up, causing the younger boy to cry out in displeasure.    
  
"Mother fucker! Put me down, David!"    
  
He flailed about as David reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He released Max.    
  
"Jesus, just ask for it!" Max griped as he straightened his hoodie.   
  
"Don't steal it in the first place."   
  
Max stuck out his tongue.    
  
"You didn't answer my question." He reminded the older man.   
  


David smiled. "She asked about you a lot."   
  


"Me? Why were you guys talking about me?" Max asked in bewilderment.   
  


"Apparently, in the 5 seconds she saw you you made quite the impression." David gave an accusatory look at Max.     
  
Max scowled. "I was just making sure she wasn't gonna mess with you. Like you wanted me to."   
  


"I wanted you to support me. Not threaten a therapist you don't know." David corrected. "But I appreciate your defence of me."    
  
"I wasn't defending you." Max glared at him.    
  


David chuckled. "Okay, Max."    
  


"Shut up, David."   
  
David grinned. Max blinked.   
  
"Hey wait, what else did she say? You didn't talk about just me for an hour, did you? You’re supposed to talk about your insomnia bullshit."    
  
David opened his mouth to say something but then did a lock and key motion, remaining silent.    
  
"David!" Max whined, tugging on his sleeve. David chuckled and ruffled Max's hair. Max groaned at the attack on his thick black curls.    
  
"Honestly, she talked about you for a good portion of that hour. She seemed very insistent that some of my problems have to do with you." David said finally.    
  
Max frowned.    
  
"Did you tell her she's wrong?" He asked. His voice sounded a small.    
  
David gave him a reassuring smile. "I entertained her with how great you are, but yes eventually I told her that you haven't been with me long enough to be any part of the apparent problems you both seem to think I have. She moved on after that."   
  
Max gave a small sigh. Then he said, "Do you still seriously think you're okay? Your not. Technically, no one is ever really fine, but you’re extra fucked up."   
  
"Thank you, Max."   
  
"That wasn't a compliment, David."   
  
David hummed.    
  
They exited the building and got into the car. Max slouched in the back seat.    
  
"What else did you talk about then?" Max asked. He felt like a broken record.    
  
"Mm. Actually, I think that's where the confidentially begins. At least for now." David said, cutting the topic short.    
  
"Oh." Max said. "Do you think she might be helpful then?"   
  


"Maybe."   
  


"Good. Maybe I won't kick her."    
  


"Max."   
  


"Maybe."   
  
\---   
  
David only had his sessions scheduled for once a week. By now it had been a month since he had started going and it was close to summer time. Meaning that Max and David would be returning to Camp Campbell very soon.    
  
"I think maybe I should stop going." David said.    
  
He was playing a videogame with Max. The boy glanced at him.   
  
"You haven't fixed anything yet, though. I still hear you in the middle of the night." Max pointed out.   
  


"I know. I just haven't really noticed any progress. Those sessions are kind of expensive and since we're going to be further away at the camp I may not even be able to go in the first place." David reasoned. "If they were doing something I might reconsider, but at this point it's going to be the same deal with my sleeping patterns."   
  
"I guess." Max paused. "Hey, I just realised. What do you do at camp? I hardly ever saw you wandering around in the middle of the night before."   
  


"Oh, I just stay cooped up in my cabin for the night. I get a little worried I might freak some of the campers if I walk around in the dark routinely so I just try to occupy myself inside." David said. 

 

"Does Gwen know then?" Max asked, remembering that the two slept in the same counselors cabin.    
  


"I don't think so? I mean she stays up later than you guys, but once she does go to sleep it's actually pretty hard to wake her. So unless I'm being loud enough to wake the camp she's probably going to keep thinking that I just go to sleep a little after her."   
  
"Why are you so self conscious about your insomnia?" Max asked suddenly. David blinked at him.   
  


"I'm... I'm not?"   
  
Max paused the game and set his controller down in the coffee table. David set his down his lap, giving Max his full attention.   
  
"You are. I can see exactly how much it bothers you. That's like the one thing I'm good at. Picking out people's insecurities and and using it against them."   
  


"That's not very nice, Max."   
  


"Yeah, whatever. I'm not going to do it to you. You still avoid talking about it and do an unusually good job at hiding it from everyone else. Even me."   
  


"You know about my insomnia, Max." David said.    
  


"Not because you told me, though."   
  


"No, but it's not really a subject to bring up out of nowhere."    
  
David was starting to look uncomfortable again. Max frowned.   
  
"See, you're doing it right now." Max said. David cocked his head.    
"What is it that I'm doing?"   
"You get this, like, pained look on your face. And you subtly try to change the subject. You entertain me with the topic when I bring it up, but I feel like you only do that to be nice."   
  
David studied Max for a moment. Then he frowned and looked intently at the coffee table.    
  
"Maybe I shouldn't stop seeing the therapist."    
  
Max hadn't expected him to reply with that.    
  
"What?"   
"I said that maybe I shouldn't stop seeing the therapist. I want to, but maybe that's why I shouldn't." David said. He drummed his fingers on his leg. Max watched him.   
  
"David, what has your therapist been telling you?"   
  


"That's confiden-"   
  


"No really. I'm not just trying to pry. It seems like she's been saying something similar to what I'm telling you right now."    
  
David didn't answer. Max took his silence as confirmation.   
  
"Are you only considering shit depending on whether I say it or she says it? For fucks sake David, I don't actually know what's good for you! Your supposed to listen to her. Unless she's telling you to murder someone. Then you call the police."    
  
David gave a bark of laughter at Max's out of place comment. Max smirked but didn't let the break in the seriousness of the conversation go.    
  
"Seriously, David. What's up with you?"   
  


"I don't have to tell you."   
  


"No. You don't."    
  
David gave Max a long look. Then he sighed.    
  
"She... thinks there's an underlying reason for my insomnia. As well as a few other 'problems'."   
  


"Does she mean your happiness complex?"   
  


"She's vague, Max. Ignoring my dislike for therapists, I don't think she's very good at her job." David said, his negative honesty making him frown. "I just disagree with a lot of the stuff she tells me, but when you notice it maybe there's a lot more backing behind what she says."   
  


"Get a new therapist. Second opinion." Max said.    
  


"You are my second opinion."   
  


"Thanks, but I'm not a therapist."    
  


"Hm."   
  
Max glanced at the paused game still on the tv screen.    
  
"I could..." David trailed off.   
  


"What?" Max said, looking back at him.    
  


"One of the things that got brought up... was my old therapist. I think she wants me to see if I can find them and see them again." David said slowly.    
  


"Does that count as a second opinion? Didn't you say you saw them for your insomnia?" Max asked.    
  
David didn't say anything. He brought a hand to his mouth, seeming to chew on the tip of his thumb. Max took note of the nervous habit.    
  
"Why does she want you to see them again?" Max prompted.   
  


"I can't remember why I saw my old therapist. My insomnia was part of the reason, but it's also the farthest I can remember it developing. She thinks maybe if I talk to them that maybe..." David shrugged, not finishing the sentence.    
  
Max hummed. After a moment he grabbed up his game controller again. David picked his up from his lap as well.    
  
"We don't have to go to that stupid camp yet, so maybe you should try to find them before then. If you can't figure out how to fix your insomnia bullshit, I'm going to make this summer hell for you." Max said.    
  
He pressed play on the game.    
  
\---   
  
"...What's a repressed memory?" Max asked uncertainly. He didn't like expressing when he had limited knowledge, but pushed his pride aside in an attempt to fully understand what David was talking about.    
  
"It means you block a memory out." David sighed. "Like if something bad happened to you and your brain thought it was too horrible or something, sometimes it just makes you forget about it. It's still there, but you sort of refuse to acknowledge it."    
  


"And that's what's causing your insomnia?"   
  


"That's what they said. Yes."   
  
Max looked out the window. They were in the car, driving back home from their trip to David's old therapist he'd managed to find.    
  
"So you know what the cause is... but you don't actually know what the cause is."   
  


"Yes." David sounded tired.    
  


"...Is it always a bad memory?" Max asked.   
  
David glanced at him, but kept his focus on the road in front of him.    
  
"I assume so." He said. "It doesn't really make sense to block out a good memory. You want to remember those. The point of blocking out bad memories is usually because we don't want to remember them."    
  


"Oh."   
  
Max fidgeted anxiously. He was smart enough to realise that a memory would have to be really fucking awful if it made you forget about it. It worried him that David apparently had a memory like that. One so bad that even though he couldn't recall it, it still fucked him up subconsciously in the form of insomnia. It worried Max what could happen if David did remember. If he was lucky, it might just resolve the insomnia. If he wasn't... well, he was the one who told David he should go to the stupid therapist in the first place.   
  
They arrived home, David parking the car and fumbling with the keys. He seemed to be a bit absent minded, likely stressed himself about the new information he was given. He managed to unlock the door and the two stepped inside.    
  
"You should start packing." David said.    
  
Max wandered to his room. They had cut it very short in finding the therapist. They were leaving to the camp the next day. He searched under his bed for his suitcase, knocking aside a couple of boxes and books that were stored under there as well. He grabbed an assorted pile of clothes from his dresser and shoved them into his bag. Then he glanced around his room for anything extra he might want to take. Everything else he would have to grab in the morning before they left. He set his stuffed suitcase at the end of his bed.    
  
Max went back out into the living room and peered into the kitchen. It was around dinner time and David was leaning against the counter looking at a box of pasta. He didn't seem to be actually reading it.    
  
"David?" Max called out to him.    
  
The man turned, resuming in opening the box.   
  
"Yeah, Max?" He said. His voice was cheery but it sounded hollow. It unnerved the boy.    
  
"Are you okay?" Max asked him.   
  


"Hm? Of course, I'm okay." David smiled at him as he dumped the box's contents into the pot that was already boiling on the stove. Max decided not to press him.    
  


**Author's Note:**

> So, I have plenty of headcanons I use like they are actually canon. Dadvid and insomniac David are two consistent ones. I had a vague plan for this storyline and I'll let you know it was heading in the direction of Jasper. But this is old and from when I'd only write late at night before passing out. Frankly, I was going to cut this off way earlier except then it was really short and seemed like a sad little thing to post, so now y'all get everything I had.


End file.
